whatever

ignoring all warnings not to fret
which all should take, and heed rightly
every day it seems, I choke the neck
--does no good to press lightly
to make flat buzzing notes and dull chimes
striving to make a song
though I hate meters, and maids
and ever more so, rhymes

felt wrong: pulling berries off the strings
like fat ticks from Lucy's shoulder
--similes, I despise as well
play a note:
no, that one's not in it
growing older I only wish not to be younger
I still don't often hunger for rings or romances
but operate slightly, almost every day

courageous or cowardly
whatever gets day done and bills paid
work is neither hourly nor inspiring
but much quite preferable to the alternative
firing either or another high into the air
aloof more than superlatives describe
I funnel melody to white walls grayed
a few come in alone
                                  --some leave in pairs